Want and Need
by LittleGlassEyes
Summary: ONESHOT  Sometimes, what you wanted and needed the most only becomes apparent when you've lost it. Warning;Inside


**Hello. This is my first fanfiction posted online, and I hope that more stories will follow. Please enjoy it, and show reader discretion as stated in the warning. I have moved this from an M to a T, after critiquing, but the rating can and may change. I do not wish to offend.  
**_**"**____There is no such thing____as a moral or an______immoral book__. Books are well written, or badly written."_

**WARNING: The following contains blood and situations some readers may find offensive or distressing. It does contain death and pathos. You have been forewarned. Have a nice day.  
**

_**-X-**_****

Shukaku thoughts 

"I want…" he whispered against her soft lips, his voice velvet and low, emanating from deep within his chest. He held her body close to his, his large hands crushing her against him, desperate for the gap within them to close, to remove the barrier of skin and physical body, to eradicate and dominate.  
She whimpered softly, tears whispering down pale flesh tinted with flecks of cherry. She gripped the fabric of his shirt in her fingers, desperation shaking and rattling her bones.  
"Don't…don't leave me," she sobbed, clutching his hair in her hands in an attempt to pull his face from hers, to see those sea green eyes in which she had long deposited all hope for existence, for life. No matter how hard she tried, her neediness remained a defining feature of her psyche. However, now the dependence was not to protect her, to have constant aid at her beck and call, however much she denied such behaviour. The dependence was upon the very existence of this man, this being she held in her hands and refused to let go of; this demon.

"I want…" he repeated, his hands ghosting across her face, wiping away the tears he could feel falling down, cascading away from her and falling into his lap. He touched the wet substance to his eyes, now a mixture of two salty yet sweet liquids he longed to consume from her. "I want… to end you…" he groaned, his eyes flicking upwards to meet her ivy irises, the pools of forest green from which he had fled, avoided, and yet wanted to consume. To take the very light from her eyes and devour her being.  
He growled low and held her head still as she began to turn it from side to side in denial. "No, Gaara, no…" His fingers flexed and tightened, twisted up in her hair, he wrenched her faced towards his, and spoke in a low tone tainted by lust; lust for her body and for her blood. "Don't say that… don't even pretend you can stand to say it," he murmured harshly. "But, but Gaara I!" He threw her away from him, across the floor and she lay shaking upon the ground, moaning and coughing up blood. "Leave. Now." Gaara let the words tumble from his mouth in desperation, his throat scratching in pain as the words came.  
Sabaku's low chuckle radiated out from deep within him. _**Everything you touch turns to ash… you destroy what you love. You love what you destroy.**_ He shook his head back and forth in desperation, clinging to his blood red, and blood soaked hair, keeping himself in control of the physical_**. I know what you want, boy. I know what you need**_. Though he tried to resist, his eyes flickered to the woman lying on the floor, coughing and spluttering, choking upon the precious wine which surged up from her throat.

He fell to his knees as the blood in his head pounded and pulsated in painful bursts. He groaned in pain as he resisted the impulses of the monster, breathing heavily. His hands tensed and scratched against his skin repeatedly, faster and harsher till lines of red began to appear and liquid burst forth from the skin underneath. "I need her," he whispered, too tired to fight the monster in his head, longing for relief from the never ending pain and solitude. For this, he had depended upon the small, insignificant life and pulse, beating within a cherry blossom girl.  
"I need her… so much," he whispered against the cold air, the sound of his pulse consuming his ears. He had tainted her, marked her, and made her his and his alone. He did what no monster such as he should do. He had reached out and touched the innocence and insignificance of humanity, this one woman who through powers unknown and non-existent to the ignorance of rash humanity, had consumed and dominated a monster. She had blossomed in his mind and heart, and he had spattered the petals with blood.  
He wanted, more than anything, to be rid of the blossoms. Either to crush them in his hand or to let the blood slowly eat away with ferocious acidity, till nothing remained but the solution of blood and flower, pattering to the floor in the silence of his secluded mind.  
He wanted to end her, as he had told her so, so many times. He had screamed it, had sobbed it, and had dominated, pleaded and begged. He had engrained his desire into her very skin with the sand of his other half, the half who taught him his needs. But, every time, every time he had shown himself to her, she had crawled broken and bruised back to him, and cried against him. This had subdued the burning desire to kill for so long, had buried it deeper and deeper within him, till that temptation and lust touched the blossom.  
It would end tonight; he had been sure of this when finding his one reason for existence. He would take that reason away, and delight in the absence. These were the thoughts that plagued his mind, growing and devouring all sense as the Sabaku reached him through his weakness; the blossom. His heart grew heavy and his eyes began to turn, his back arched forward and a scream escaped his lips. He was so, so torn… he wanted, he wanted…  
He needed.  
The physical came back rushing and pounding, as if he were thrown back into his body, his throat aching from screams, and liquid falling from his eyelids. This liquid, so strange, was not what he was used to. It was not what he wanted.  
He felt soft, quivering fingertips flutter and shake across his throat, and the hushing of a far away sound, so alien to him now. _Mother…? No, no… a different woman... _She serenaded the man until his voice dropped lower, lower, the screams of pain no longer the sound terrorising her ears and fuelling her fevered crawl towards him, reduced to guttural and animalistic groaning and growls, till it subsided to silence. She rested her hand against his face as she shushed her quiet lullaby, the now crushing absence of sound throbbing against her eardrums.  
She watched his face calm, and she couldn't stand it. She wouldn't be the cause of this, and so, straddling his chest, and bending low to press her lips first against each cheek and then each eye, her breath passed across his now placid expression and he inhaled the sweet smell of cherries, clutching at the body in front of him. She placed her lips against his in a sweet, innocent kiss. The thought crossed fleetingly across his almost void mind, that this kiss was his favourite. Soft, and gentle, yet flourishing with passion, it would stay a while and delight him, before ending so sadly, leaving him longing. He decided without words and any deliberation, that this was his cherry blossom kiss.  
"I'll give you what you want," she whispered sweetly against his slightly parted lips, he strived to move forward to consume her lips and bruise them, unaware of her word's connotations, but she continued to resist his advances, to murmur something more.  
"Gaara… _my_ Gaara," His hands clutched at her clothes with need, he knew now he was hers. He was hers to love, she was his to consume. "I will give you what you need." With realisation his eyes widened, desperate sounds ripping from his throat, trembling with sobs which racked his entire body. He screamed at her, begging. She embraced his lips with her own in one last, fleeting kiss, before her beautiful breath, which seemed so loud to his ears, more so than his own vocal chords, ended.  
The liquid he both loathed and loved flowed from her throat, coughed from her mouth into his, and slowly seeped through the clothes, into his skin, which absorbed it hungrily, removing the barrier of skin as he had wished.  
He moaned and cried against her lips, pressing against the already fleeting warmth, clutching her body to his, begging and pleading, again a small child as the tears flowed freely. His hands found the cut, made upon her neck and he pressed his lips against it with careful, loving movements, but his ministrations could not return her to life. Her blood caressed his tongue and throat, as if it were she, continuing to soothe him with her last lullaby. He continued to hold her lifeless body against him, staining both pale skins with blood, becoming one, as he rocked back and forth, pleading with silent screams and staring eyes. "Don't… don't leave me…"  
The blossom had flowered, and under the weight of the pattering red rain, had fallen willing to the ground, drowning in the sanguine.  
A rasping laugh came from him. Yes, she had given him what he wanted. More than anything in the world, she had given him what he needed, when he himself could not see what it was. She had given him his escape. He lay next to her on the floor, a gentle smile against his lips, which was reflected in the calm acceptance of her dying expression. She had released him. The red would also inevitably fall as rain, to create a lake of red on which would float gentle blossoms.  
Pressing her body against his for the last time, he took the blade which had fallen from her hands, pressed it to his neck, and repeated the motion which had both taken what he wanted most from this world, and gave him what he needed to pass into the next, and their bodies collapsed to the floor, in a pool of red.  
Their blood would bloom a new harmony.  
_**I always knew. What it was you needed…**_

_**-X-**_


End file.
